


Two Moons

by brieflygorgeous



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Bartender Hwanwoong, Blood Drinking, Clubbing, Drinking, Firebender Hwanwoong, Journalist Youngjo, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Sexual Content, Vampire Seoho, like really mild, that last one is a joke (or is it)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brieflygorgeous/pseuds/brieflygorgeous
Summary: First as a supernatural aficionado, and later as a journalist, Youngjo has dedicated the best of his youth to collect such stories he had never had the chance to live himself.Until today.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Seoho
Comments: 14
Kudos: 57





	Two Moons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gay4ten (frosmxths)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosmxths/gifts).



> this is a special request for my friend, xio <3
> 
> this was my first time really writing for oneus (i guess that short drabble doesn't really count asdflhksdhlfk) so i'm sorry if the characterization sounds a bit off? hopefully the more i write for them the better i get.
> 
> this was partially inspired by kim wooseok's red moon, check it out on youtube!

The first time Youngjo heard about _Two Moons_ he was still an intern at a small, online pop culture magazine. As an avid member of obscure paranormal forums, he’d been thrilled when assigned his very first article on whatever topic of his choice. Urban myths seemed a sensible choice both to spark the interest of readers and not let him run overboard with his obsession regarding all things mysterious and wildly unknown. Familiar as Youngjo was with such forums, he knew of the plethora of trolls and fake accounts that swarmed threads and buried the actual good stuff. Telling apart fact from fiction wasn’t always easy, but whenever an enticing gem fell on his lap, it eventually led him to an entire gold mine.

_Two Moons_ wouldn’t be easily singled out among the many night clubs that populated Gangnam. It was neither completely bleak nor extravagant enough to warrant the interest of most newspapers and rival businesses. Online reviews averaged on a three and half stars rating out of five, sufficiently good for the casual customer who didn’t want to wait in line for more fancy places and just needed a little pick-me-up from time to time. Nothing noteworthy, otherwise.

Except that after doing a little research, a considerable number of customers had allegedly experienced strange apparitions ranging from bizarre, to grotesque and feverishly ingenious, after frequenting the place. None attributed such events directly as a consequence of being at _Two Moons_ , nor of the copious amount of alcohol or the dizzying strobe lights. But Youngjo’s interviewing skills had him keen on noticing patterns. First as a supernatural aficionado, and later as a journalist, Youngjo has dedicated the best of his youth to collect such stories he had never had the chance to live himself.

Until today.

The red neon sign above the club door has two crescent moons facing each other in perfect symmetry, as if they were the horns of an unknown devil. From the instant thrill Youngjo feels as he steps inside, he might as well have descended to the depths of a strange, alluring hell.

The dim purple lights illuminate Youngjo’s path with the mysterious, sensuous shadows of strangers in all levels of inebriation. Some move with the slow and dramatic elegance of the rich and their discreet plastic surgery beauty; some parrot flashier behaviors, empowered by more than a couple bottles of soju, laughing loud and youthful. The steady beat of a deep house track binds them all together in a spell. A perfectly civil disguise under where the real fun prowls. 

“Hey, stranger.” The bartender winks at Youngjo as he approaches the bar area. Hwanwoong—or so says the name tag on his lapel—has a casually intimate smile, the kind that invites customers to feel comfortable enough to confide him their secrets and their money. “What are you looking for tonight?”

“Trouble.” Youngjo smirks. “Got any?”

Judging by the playful grin as he assembles his tools, Hwanwoong decides to humor him. Ice clinks as he pours wine into a tall, slim glass. Crushed black raspberries go on top, and they float down to the bottom like dark blood drops.

“ _Sangria_ , korean style,” Hwanwoong presents with a flourish. “On the house.”

The berry flavor of _bokbunjaju_ drags down Youngjo’s throat with a sweet and suggestive intensity that flares below his stomach, right between his thighs. A deliberate and desired effect that Hwanwoong’s face doesn’t deny when Youngjo quirks an inquisitive eyebrow.

“You look like you could do a little unwinding.” Hwanwoong winks as way of explaining. “Get some of that tension off your shoulders.”

While Youngjo enjoys his fair share of alcohol infused bad decisions, being wasted isn’t exactly beneficial for his job. But acting completely incognito isn’t either, and something tells him Hwanwoong may be more aware than he shows. He was, after all, well regarded by all witnesses Youngjo has interviewed, and being a key character at _Two Moons_ since its opening, Hwanwoong wouldn’t just run his mouth if he knew of Youngjo’s true intentions.

And Youngjo does not wish to blow away the fun of his own discoveries either, so he simply smiles and takes the drink to the dance floor. Perhaps he did come to find himself trouble.

Bodies move around him in a kaleidoscopic trance of light, in and out, in and out, following the rhythmic beat of the music. Furtive glances are thrown his way, but lust is a dangerous game to play in exchange for information—besides, he’s not interested in _human_ information tonight.

Youngjo keeps an eye out for the hint of any unusual behavior: translucent movements, cryptic tongues, irregular body shapes. But soon the strobe lights and the single drink he’s had melt some of his discretion away.

Dazed by the taste of berries and a pair of hands playing up his waist, Youngjo leans heavy and pliant against someone’s front. Their hips move with his, and where their thighs meet, Youngjo feels heat spreading down his body.

“Hey, handsome,” a voice whispers just under his earshell, deceitfully sweet despite how little innocent his body feels against Youngjo’s. “What is your name?”

“ _Ravn_ ,” Youngjo says, knowing better than to commit his real name to a fleeting exchange. That much he can still remember.

The man behind him smiles wide, having caught on Youngjo’s lie.

“Playing hard to get,” he purrs, eyes squinting to half moons of soft amusement. “I’m Seoho. How old are you?”

“Twenty five.”

“Oh, so I’m younger. Take good care of me, _hyung._ ”

Seoho drawls that last word as he does with the blunt nails dragging up Youngjo’s sides. Goosebumps run up his spine, and the moment Seoho tips his head and bats those eyelashes with fake innocence, Youngjo knows he’s getting into a different kind of trouble tonight.

Seoho has something about him that doesn’t allow Youngjo’s eyes to stray for a minute. Perhaps it’s the mischievous pair of eyes that brighten like a cat’s every time the lights flash over him, or the shadows that his sharp cheekbones project down his face, dark trails of a weeping angel. Or it’s the deadly cupid bow shape of his lips, ready to shoot Youngjo down when a pink tongue peeks from between them.

The kiss is a mess of teeth and tongue and the lingering numbness of alcohol that makes Youngjo nip on Seoho’s lips as they part.

“Berries,” Seoho sighs against his mouth. Youngjo can taste the words on his tongue. “Hwanwoong did that for you?”

“Yeah,” Youngjo admits. The still coherent part of his brain begs him to cling to that piece of information, and he tries, despite how bad his body wants to betray him. The weight of Seoho against him is distracting and invites way wilder thoughts than Youngjo wishes to admit. “I told him I came here to find myself trouble.”

“Well.” Seoho runs his thumb over Youngjo’s throat, all the way up to his chin. “You found me.”

He leans in to say something but Youngjo momentaneously snaps out of it when the crowd screams behind him.

At the bar area, Hwanwoong douses alcohol over a pyramid of stacked glasses and makes it a show to blows them aflame with his mouth. An impressive trick of fire breathing, had Youngjo’s eyes not caught the hint of flames sticking to Hwanwoong’s fingers, as if he had conjured them at will.

“Eyes on me, hyung.” Seoho’s voice brings Youngjo back to his side, a lilt of whining jealousy in the pretty pout of his lips. “I’m all the trouble you need.”

“Well, are you?” Youngjo chuckles halfheartedly, eyes still trying to decode every detail of what he just saw.

When he returns his attention to the insistent hands holding his shoulder and neck, Youngjo falls in awed silence.

Two sharp fangs make a slight curve at the sides of Seoho’s mouth, as if they are smaller reflections of the wide smile stretching his cupid’s bow lips tight. But it’s his eyes that have Youngjo hypnotized: two big, full red moons for eyes that shine brighter than the strobe lights flashing all around the club.

Time seems to slow down to accommodate the strange phenomena Youngjo has finally caught himself into, where no eyes can see nor interrupt them.

Seoho mouths under his jaw, runs a wet and velvet soft tongue over where Youngjo’s pulse jumps from the intoxicating smell of berries and the electrifying realization of what is about to happen. The sting of sharp teeth breaking the skin on his neck makes Youngjo shiver from all the wrong reasons—instead of fear, he moans in a rush of excitement as Seoho drinks on the blood dripping down his throat.

Youngjo’s knees give in, and he’s more than happy to hold onto Seoho as a heady vulnerability spreads through his body. Seoho sucks on his neck more forcefully, and Youngjo must be out of his goddamn mind if all that makes is give him more reason to press himself closer to Seoho.

His reaction must be an unexpected one for Seoho to snort against his neck. 

“Dude,” Seoho laughs, not hiding his own weird enjoyment at the effect he has on Youngjo. “Did you just accidentally pop a boner? While I sucked on your blood?”

“I think I did.”

“You’re fun,” Seoho smiles against Youngjo’s lips, smears them crimson red with a kiss that tastes of iron and sweet berries. “Hwanwoong was not wrong when he sent you to me with that drink.”

“He sent me to you?”

“I have a very specific type according to him, and you just happened to fit in perfectly. Come back next full moon, I’ll be waiting for you, _Youngjo hyung._ ”

At the mention of his real name, Youngjo blinks, and suddenly the magic is broken.

Music blasts from the speakers right beside him, and the frantic bodies squeezing and tossing him around add only to the grating sobering state of his mind. Seoho is nowhere to be seen, and there’s no wound left on Youngjo’s neck either, no matter how deeply he still feels it throbbing in pain-pleasure waves that irradiate to the rest of his body.

At the bar, Hwanwoong denies having ever served Youngjo anything, much less having seen him before. He claims not to know who Seoho is either, but the sparks that fly out of his eye as he winks at Youngjo leaving say otherwise.

Outside the club, the night is cold and cloudy, but the sharp curve of a crescent moon smiles down at Youngjo from above. The _Two Moons_ cases remains an inconclusive mistery, and there’s only one way to find out the next part of this story.

“I’ll see you again,” Youngjo promises with a smile, pressing his fingers down where Seoho’s bite mark should have been. “Next full moon.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are much appreciated <3
> 
> you can find me on twitter and curiouscat @hyeonlix


End file.
